Another Point Of View
by Wisteria666
Summary: A look at a simple mission gone wrong, from the point of view of a very put-upon cook.
1. Chapter 1

"Alright people, listen up!"

Major Perry, Commander of the Mess and everything else she deemed within her purview, strode into the kitchen. I set aside the knife I was using to chop shallots, and brushed the sweat off my brow. The kitchen, as usual, was damn near a sauna, and all of us were sweating profusely despite tossing our regulation uniform tops in a pile near the door. Major Perry looked over our disheveled state and shook her head, but said nothing. She'd been after the brains to fix the ventilation, but there was always something else 'more urgent' for them to fiddle with. Honestly, it took us threatening their coffee supply before they got around to routing enough power to work all the food stations.

"Okay, I have a few announcements," the Major continued when she saw she had our full attention. "First off, the Athosians on base are grumbling that we're not making enough of their dishes. Fix that. We could do with fewer tater tots and more tuttle root soup. If anyone complains, and they will, tell them to take it up with Teyla. If they dare. Second, the next scheduled resupply from Earth is in three weeks, so go easy on the things we can't source locally. Finally, I need a volunteer to check on the experimental vegetable garden we planted several months back on M2S-489. You'll be accompanying Colonel Sheppard's team."

The kitchen was suddenly filled with people doing their very best to look anywhere but at the Major.

"Is there a problem?" she asked, sounding genuinely bewildered at the lack of enthusiasm. Bless her heart. There were a few mumbles from the crowd.

"This is an opportunity to go off world," she exclaimed. "Normally I'd be beating you all back with a stick! Now what is the issue here?"

"Ain't none of us want to die!" someone called from the back. Murmurs of agreement followed.

"What are you talking about?" Major Perry asked, fists on ample hips. She may look like everybody's favorite community college pottery teacher, but the woman's all military when riled.

"Colonel Sheppard's a great leader, I'm sure," one of the patissiers piped up. "Thing is, he doesn't have the greatest track record with non-team members."

Major Perry looked around the kitchen at all the nodding heads, and blinked.

"Nonsense," she said. "He's a very conscientious leader. It is simply that he takes on more difficult missions than most."

"With all due respect," I chimed in. "Going on a mission with Sheppard's team, you might as well be wearing a red shirt."

"I don't even know what that means," the Major said, exasperated now. "This isn't a mission. Colonel Sheppard's team merely has a few minor tasks at an alpha site, and we're tagging along. Now, volunteers." She looked around her still unwilling staff, and sighed. "Fine. Findley. You're it." I groaned silently. "You've gone through the food plant safety program at SGC. Meet the Colonel and his team at the gate room at 0600." She smiled nastily. "And don't forget your red shirt." She turned on her heel and marched out.

"Well, I'm screwed," I muttered. My stationmate, Deb, reached over and scooped my shallots into her skillet.

"I talked to Chuck earlier," she said. "Sheppard's team is doing environmental readings and light recon there."

"You mean the anointed ones have been reduced to data collection and guard duty at an unspoiled alpha site? Why ever for?"

"Apparently they've been through some pretty rough missions lately, and Woolsey feels they need a break."

"They must be so tired," I simpered. "The poor little lambs!"

"Fin, you're such a bitch!" Deb giggled.

"And you love it," I grinned, reaching for a fresh bunch of sort-of carrots.

Now, here's the deal. I don't have a problem with Sheppard or his team, for the most part. Maybe they're a little cliqueish, and Dr McKay is a pain in the ass with all his dietary demands, which we mostly ignore, but they seem okay. Thing is, they're considered the Golden Children of the base. The stunts they've gotten away with over the years are astounding, as are the lengths the command will go to pull their asses out of the fire. The problem comes in when not every other team gets that same support. There are dozens of men who are still listed as MIA, and bodies never recovered from where they fell, but if Sheppard or any of his people disappear, it's red alert, all teams go until they're rescued, and damn the collateral damage. And to be totally honest, every time a soldier falls to the Wraith, there's always a friend or a lover who looks over the flag draped casket toward Sheppard with just the tiniest hint of accusation. Do I sound bitter? Maybe I am, just a little, but I've been here on Atlantis from the beginning. These past years haven't been easy on any of us.

I finished up my duties early, grabbed a bite to eat, and ran up to my quarters. I looked around my room for the gear I'd need; portable plant database, testing kits, utility knife, water bottle, digital camera. We'd be back before dark, so I wouldn't need much else. I looked at the free space in my pack, and after a moment, I touched my earpiece.

"Chuck? Fin here. Could you locate Dr. Zelenka for me?"

I met Sheppard and his team at the gate room at the ungodly hour of 0600. I could hear Dr. McKay's well known whine from across the large room.

"Why can't we take a puddle jumper? It would be a lot faster if we did."

"The site is only two kilometers from the gate," Sheppard said. "There's no reason to take a puddle jumper."

"Well, ever since I got shot in the ass by an arrow, I've been prone to sciatica."

"Rodney, that was like four years ago!" Sheppard replied, sounding exasperated now. "Let it go!"

"The walk is a very short and pleasant one," Teyla interjected gently.

"Really?" McKay said doubtfully.

"'Sides," Ronon added. "You could use the exercise. You look like you've put on a few pounds."

"I have not!" McKay protested shrilly. "I am exactly the same weight I've always been! Just because some of us don't look like the cover of a Robert E. Howard novel doesn't mean we've been gaining weight!"

Seriously? I was going to have spend all day listening to this?

Sheppard caught sight of me, and his face lit up.

"And this must be our charming travel companion. I'm John Sheppard."

"Findley, sir. Fin."

"Well, uh, Fin, this is Dr. Rodney McKay, Teyla Emmagen, and Ronon Dex." He motioned to the others. Teyla smiled warmly, Ronon nodded curtly, and McKay ignored me, fixated on his tablet.

"We've met," Teyla laughed. "How are you, Fin?"

"Doing well, Ma'am, really looking forward to this trip," I lied.

"Oh, you know each other?" Sheppard said, surprised. "I don't think I've seen you before. You new to the Pegasus galaxy?"

"I arrived here with your team, sir."

"Oh, when we returned a few months back, then."

"Six years ago, sir. Original expedition"

"Oh. Um. Well, then." The tips of his ears turned red. Anyone ever notice he has pointed ears? Next we'll find out he's half elf, or something. It would explain the ridiculous amount of luck the man has. "I'm a little groggy this morning. Haven't had my coffee. I'm sure we've met at some point. In the, um, past six years."

"Of course, sir." Jackass.

"You been off world before?" Ronon grunted.

"Yes. I was on the team of botanists and support staff who planned and planted the patch."

"Good," he said. "Then you know to stay near us and keep your head down if there's trouble."

"There's not gonna be any trouble," Sheppard interjected. "This is just a stroll in the park, a little data gathering, and a picnic in the grass. Right, Fin?"

"Got the blanket in my pack, sir."

"Boring," Ronon muttered. Hasn't anyone bothered doing something about this dude's testosterone levels?

"Alright," Sheppard said, ignoring Ronon's last remark. "Let's head on out."

In front of us, the gate activated with a liquid whoosh, and we stepped through the blue glow, and on to another planet.


	2. Chapter 2

M2S-489 is one of those gorgeous, foresty planets that look like something out of a fantasy geek's wet dream. Big, towering almost-pines, wide meadows filled with wild flowers, majestic blue mountains in the distance. Dr. Lee from SGC pays us support staff a bounty for every set of pictures we send him. We're happy to do so, because the guy's real, you know? Well, that and the money's good.

Anyway, the planet is damn near perfect. The soil's great, it rains frequently enough that water's not an issue, and there're no man-eating monsters that we can't handle. I mean, there's some sort of freaky snake-lamprey thing that will attach itself to its prey and burrow its way through the flesh as it eats, but that makes a distinctive grinding sound before it strikes, so it's easy to avoid. There's also a massive meat-eating plant that uses its vines to snag prey, but it smells like decomposing flesh, so anyone with any sort of working olfactory sense can avoid it.

The stargate is located in the middle of one of those perfect meadows, and I could feel my spirits lift as I looked around. The air was crystal clear, and the morning sunlight was warm on my skin. Behind me, McKay began to slap at his arms.

"Are there mosquitos here? I think there are mosquitos here!"

"Does the Pegasus galaxy even have mosquitos?" Sheppard asked.

"I don't know, but something's biting me!"

I pulled a stick of insect repellant from one of my numerous pockets and handed it to McKay.

"Oh hey, thanks," he said happily, rubbing it vigorously over his arms and face. He glared at Sheppard. "At least someone here is prepared!"

"You didn't bring any either," Sheppard pointed out.

""Well I couldn't. I used the last of it on M2S-338 last week. Remember, that planet with all the swamps?"

"How could I forget?" Sheppard groaned. "I didn't know alligators could get that big."

"Pretty good eating, though," Ronon rumbled.

"They really were," McKay agreed. He turned to me. "Hey Fin, you think if we brought one back, you guys could cook it up?"

"Yeah, so long as you bring it back already filleted," I replied. "The last time one of the teams brought back something for us to prepare, it wasn't totally dead, just biding it's time. Took us ages to get all of Peters out of the vents." Still haven't found his left foot.

We passed through the meadow and entered the forest. Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon grew silent and watchful. The leaves formed a thick canopy overhead, and the soft mulch underfoot deadened any sound we made, giving the place an eerie, surreal feel. The hairs on my arms stood on end. I had been there before, and I didn't remember the place being to spooky. Even McKay shut up, glancing around nervously. I think we all breathed a sigh of relief when we stepped out of the trees and into the small valley where the patch is located. Well, maybe not Ronon, but then I'm pretty sure there's something just not right about that guy, no matter how delicious a slab of man-meat he is. Seriously, those muscles? And those abs? Ahem. Moving on...

As I said, the valley's small, maybe a kilometer long and almost as wide, surrounded by be steep forested hills on two sides, the treeline behind us, and a sheer drop-off at the far end. A narrow stream ran through the middle, providing clear, fresh water. Sheppard looked around appreciatively.

"If I had known about this place, I'd have skipped my last vacation to Vancouver, and just come here instead," he said. "Perfect place for a few rounds of golf."

Teyla smiled and rolled her eyes. Sheppard's golf obsession is well known.

"Stupid sport," Ronon said. "What's the point of hitting little balls around with a stick?"

"See, you're just not getting the subtleties of the game," Sheppard argued. "It takes skill."

"Yeah, whatever." How does Teyla put up with this every day without screaming?

"God, I'm starving," McKay said. "They replaced the tater tots with some sort of root soup this morning, so all I had was eggs and sausage. Are we almost there?"

I opened another pocket and handed McKay a stick of string cheese. He took it eagerly.

"Thanks!" he said around a mouthful of cheese. _Thank you, Radek, _I thought_. I swear if you get me through this without going homicidal on McKay, kolaches will be on the menu every damn day for a month._

"So what exactly are we doing here?" Ronon asked.

"We're retrieving data from the sensors Major Lorne's team planted last year," Teyla answered. "We're also supposed to be taking environmental readings and testing the soil and water for any trace contaminants."

"We're also looking for any sign of ozone depletion and global warming," Sheppard added.

"I wouldn't mind a little global warming here," McKay said, rubbing his arms. "It's really nippy here. I should have brought a thicker jacket. I'm susceptible to chest colds. God, I thought I caught pneumonia after Tunney's stupid presentation. I just heard from him. He tried trademarking the term 'freeze lightning', and is upset that I registered it first. Can you believe the nerve of- Hey, thanks!"

"Don't mention it," I muttered as he took a bite of the candy bar I had handed him. Ronon dropped back to walk beside me.

"You're feeding him to get him to shut up, aren't you?" he chuckled. Ah, so the big guy has some brains to go with that brawn. Who would have suspected?

"Dr. Zelenka made the suggestion," I admitted. Ronon grinned, then eyed my pack.

"Do you have any-" he began. I handed him a small packet.

"Peppered beef jerky," I said. "Radek mentioned you developed a taste for it on Earth."

"I'll have to have Sheppard bring you along more often."

"Rather you didn't."

We reached the vegetable patch, and I dropped my pack. Teyla and Ronon headed to the eastern border to find the sensors, while Sheppard and McKay went west. I pulled out my testing kit, and spent the next several hours taking samples from each vegetable and running them against the data stored in my tablet, looking for any sign of toxins or genetic mutations. Apparently a patch on another planet developed vegetables capable of defending themselves when threatened. Little Shop of Horrors was referenced in the report.

"How's it going?" Sheppard asked from behind me. I squeaked and jumped slightly, nearly dropping my tablet.

"Just going over the preliminary test results," I said, clinging to the tattered shreds of my dignity. "Everything checks out normal, except for this small inconsistency here." I pointed to the chart on my screen. Sheppard leaned over and peered at the data, then shrugged.

"Anything we need to worry about?" he asked.

"Well, it's not a toxin," I hedged. "The results are reading as safe for consumption. I just won't know exactly what this anomaly is until I get the data and the samples to the botany department. Once they clear it, we can start growing more of the produce Atlantis needs here."

"Great," he said. "You ready for lunch? McKay claims his blood sugar is low. Again."

The five of us settled into the grass a few yards away from the patch and pulled out our MREs. It's been years since I tasted one, and I still had nightmares about the experience. The label reading 'Soy beef and creamed spinach' did nothing to assuage my fears. McKay and Ronon looked equally dubious.

"You got anything to make these taste better, Fin?" Sheppard asked, staring at his packet in disgust.

"There is nothing in the universe that will make that cheese-and-tofu-omelet-in-a-bag palatable, sir."

Ronon's eyes narrowed, and he stood quickly. Without a word, he loped away to a small stand of trees.

"Where's he off to?" Sheppard asked.

"His Roney senses must be tingling," McKay grumbled. "Who the hell thought up chicken loaf and peas?"

A loud grinding sound came from the tree stand, followed by the sound of Ronon's energy pistol going off.

"You okay there, Ronon?" Sheppard called. Ronon emerged, holding the limp body of a headless lamprey-snake.

"Got better food," he called back. "They don't taste like much, but they're better than those things."

Ronon strode back to us, and tossed the snake in front of us.

"Dig in," he offered, lowering himself to the grass. He slit open the skin, exposing white flesh.

"I'm not sure that's much better, buddy," Sheppard said, looking ill. "Any suggestions from the cook?"

"I can probably to something with that," I said, pulling a collapsible bowl from my pack. "Dr. McKay, would you be so kind as to grab me a tomato and an onion from the patch?"

I scooped the meat into the bowl, and as soon as McKay's back was turned, I doused it with lemon juice and Tabasco.

"You carry lemon juice and hot sauce with you?" Ronon asked.

"For just this sort of situation." When travelling to distant planet, it is important to know where your lemon juice and hot sauce are. And your towel.

"I may be wrong," Teyla said, with the inflection of one who knows she isn't, "but isn't Rodney allergic to citrus?"

"Nope," I said. "Just grapefruits. We've been adding citrus to everything for years. Dr. Beckett is big on vitamin C."

"Are you sure?" Sheppard asked.

"Major Perry got Dr Beckett the First extremely drunk and swiped Dr. McKay's medical record. We're very sure. Just grapefruit." Which was a real relief. Accommodating allergies is fine. Hypochondria, not so much. "Say nothing, and there will be brats and beer next week."

McKay came back with the vegetables, and I quickly diced them and added them to the meat. A bit of cilantro from my samples, and we had alien snake-thing ceviche, which was a hell of a lot better than those MRE abominations.

"Doesn't ceviche have lemon in it?" McKay asked, his mouth full.

"Nope," I lied.

After lunch we packed up and began the walk back to the gate. It was mid afternoon at this point, and the shadows were beginning to lengthen. The woods were colder than they should have been, and I shivered as we made our way through. There was something dangerous in these woods, at least according to that ancient sixth sense that told our ancestors that a sabre-tooth tiger was about to make kitty chow out of them. The upside was, we were so on edge that we heard the gate activate before we reached the treeline.

"Stay here," Ronon said quietly, putting a massive paw on my shoulder. McKay stopped beside me, and we watched Ronon, Teyla, and Sheppard creep over to the edge of the meadow. They stood hidden in the shadows for several minutes, then rejoined us.

"Looks like there's going to be trouble after all," Sheppard said ruefully. "We've got a full tribe of Bola Kai warriors between us and the gate."

See? This here! This here is why I didn't want to come!


	3. Chapter 3

"Alright, what's the plan?" Ronon asked.

"We stick to the trees," Sheppard replied. "We make for the ridgeline, climb to higher ground, and watch for our chance to make it to the gate without being seen. The main thing is to keep moving. There are too many of them for us to fight off."

"Can't we just hole up somewhere and hide?" McKay asked. "This is an uninhabited planet, and once they see that, they'll leave. We can just wait them out."

I stared at McKay, wondering how a certified genius, as he is so quick to point out, could be so damn stupid. Evidentially Sheppard thought so, too.

"Once they stumble across the patch and our sensors they will know there are people here," Sheppard explained slowly. "Then they'll search until they find us. Now, let's move."

As we worked our way deeper into the woods, I approached Teyla.

"I'm getting the feeling that these Bola Kai dudes are bad news," I said. "But who are they?"

"The Bola Kai are a nomadic tribe," she replied, not taking her eyes off the surrounding forest. "There are many clans scattered across the galaxy, and they prey on other peoples to survive. They are rapists, murderers, and cannibals, and not necessarily in that order. My people fear them only second to the Wraith."

"If they're so bad off that they're eating people to survive, why don't they just ask others for help?"

"Some people are just born evil," Ronon called back. Teyla frowned slightly at that, but didn't argue.

We came across the first Bola Kai a few minutes later. There were two of them, large, tattooed, and covered in badly cured furs so rank that we smelled them before we saw them. Sheppard, Ronon, and Teyla took position behind some trees, while McKay and I ducked under some bushes.

They came around a pile of boulders, and my attention was immediately caught by their weapons. They were crude things made up of sharpened stone and salvaged metal, and they were utterly terrifying. Black blood stained the ugly axes and knives, and one held a spear adorned with a long red braid. Bits of scalp still clung to the matted hair. To my eyes, they looked eight feet tall, with shoulders like a linebacker. I know in reality they were not much bigger than Sheppard, and not near Ronon's size, but at that moment they were giants. Beside me, McKay's eyes were wide, but to my surprise, he remained silent and still, not even a tremble to rustle the leaves.

Sheppard slowly raised his gun, and Teyla made a quick gesture and shook her head. She pulled a fuck-all big dagger from her hip and nodded to Ronon, who plucked a smaller one from his hair. All potential thoughts of running my hands through his dreads were snuffed out of existence, never to return.

Teyla's knife took the first Bola Kai in the heart; Ronon's buried itself in the other's throat. Both men dropped without a sound. Unfortunately, none of the team expected a third to come sauntering around the boulders. Sheppard raised his gun but hesitated, not wanting the shots to alert the other warriors. That hesitation gave the guy the chance to high-tail it back the way he came. Ronon threw another knife, but only managed to shave some fur off the warrior's sleeve.

"We need to leave now," Sheppard ordered. "They'll sound the alert any minute."

McKay and I scrambled out from under the bushes and followed the others further into the woods. Sure enough, within minutes deep drum beats echoed across the valley. Now, I'm no coward, but the sound of those drums chilled my blood. I fought the instinct to freeze in place like a rabbit and hope the hunters passed me by. The grim look on Ronon's face didn't do a thing to reassure me. If Conan the Satedan was worried, well, I'd bet money we were screwed.

We reached the base of the ridge, and Ronon halted our run with a soft whistle. I leaned casually against a tree, pretending I wasn't as out of shape as I really was. Apparently the occasional jog to the supply depot doesn't in any way compare to fleeing from cannibal necrophiliacs.

"The cover farther up is too sparse," Ronon said to Sheppard. He wasn't even breathing hard, the bastard.

"He is right," Teyla agreed. "Had the Bola Kai not been alerted we may have escaped notice, but not now that they are actively seeking us."

"We can't stay in the valley," Sheppard mused, running his hand through his near faux-hawk. "We need to get to the other side of this ridge. We'll have to go the long way, along the base to the top of the waterfall."

"There's a trail around to the other side of the ridge?" I asked. "I mean, I recall a very steep drop to the valley below, but I didn't notice a trail." Sheppard grinned wolfishly.

"We'll find out, won't we?" he replied. I considered shooting him and leaving him for the cannibals, but Major Perry had confiscated my firearms after the potato incident with Kavanagh, and won't give them back until he's safely off base.

The run through the forest was tense as hell. I kept expecting the vikings from hell to burst through the trees and catch us. I've seen the cannibal episode of Xena- I am _not_ going out that way. Ronon took the lead, while Teyla dropped back to cover the rear. Sheppard took position beside me on the logic that as the least armed person I was the most vulnerable. I'm pretty good with a chef's knife, as Kavanagh will attest to, but I doubt I'd be much of a challenge to Sawney Bean's Pegasus cousins.

We were almost to the falls when a group of Bola Kai caught up to us. They came out of the shadows with loud shouts and gore-encrusted weapons held high. Sheppard shoved me behind him, and to my shock McKay pulled his weapon and put himself between my back and the warrior that had circled behind us. The team didn't bother with stealth this time; they opened fire immediately. The sound of gunfire was deafening, a blessing since it meant I didn't hear the screaming of the Bola Kai as they fell. One warrior dropped to the ground with his chest a mass of shredded meat, but kept crawling forward, his bloody mouth wide in an unheard scream. I stared in horror as he dragged himself toward me, still brandishing his hatchet. I tugged at Sheppard's jacket, but he was focused on bringing down a particularly evasive warrior. The wounded man had nearly made it to my feet when his head exploded in a burst of gunfire. Blood and brain matter splattered my lower body, and I looked up to find Teyla already turning away, firing on the last standing warrior. He fell quickly, and Sheppard grabbed my shoulders.

"Are you okay?" he shouted over the ringing in my ears.

"Yeah, fine." I'm covered in Bola Kai; do I look like I'm fucking okay?!

"Good, let's move," he said. "They know our position now."

He took the lead, and we followed him to the edge of the woods. A quick look revealed a group of Bola Kai at the far end of the valley, thankfully watching the treeline. We scuttled to the thick foliage at the edge of the ridge, and took a good look at our so-called escape route. The ridge had gone from tree covered earth to bare rock some way back, and ended in a sheer drop to the valley far, far below. There was no trail, and no way around.

"Well, that's unfortunate," Sheppard said calmly. "Could be worse, though."

"Unfortunate?" I hissed incredulously. "This whole situation goes way beyond 'unfortunate'! This is a curse. Your whole damn team is cursed. That's the only explanation. I've met people who sexually abuse albatrosses for fun and profit who have better luck than you people!"

"What's an albatross?" Ronon asked. I ignored him.

"Hey, it's not that bad," Sheppard grinned. "See, there's our trail right there." He pointed to a series of narrow ridges jutting from the cliff face. "See, we'll just inch our way across. It's a pretty short distance to the other side. We'll be across in no time."

"And why would anyone want to sexually abuse one for fun?" Ronon continued.

"It'll be fun," Sheppard concluded, patting my shoulder.

And that was when I realized Sheppard is clinically insane.


	4. Chapter 4

Before I could break out into hysterical laughter over being stuck on a remote planet with a group of lunatics led by a suicidal maniac, while being chased by alien Jeffery Dahmers, McKay spoke up.

"I- I don't think I can do that," he stammered, turning paler than his normal Canadian never-seen-the-sun shade of white. "I'm afraid of heights. I get vertigo. I can't even get up on a foot-stool without feeling dizzy..."

"It will be alright, Rodney," Teyla said, trying to soothe him. "It is not far, and the ledges are more than adequate."

Not far, my ass. The cliff face we needed to cross was well over fifty meters wide, and the ledges we would have to use as foot holds were half a foot at the widest. Teyla would undoubtedly have no problem. Sheppard once climbed the control tower free-hand, so I figure he's good to go. McKay, however, is a somewhat solid dude and not exactly the athletic type, and Ronon's feet are massive, just like the rest of him. As for me-

"Any chance you can, er, wrap those a little tighter to your chest?" Sheppard asked, trying hard not to look directly at my breasts. "I only ask 'cause we're going to be hugging the rocks, and those, um, might throw you, I don't know, off balance?"

"Are those real?" McKay blurted out. "What? He brought them up first!"

"How could they not be real?" Ronon asked, perplexed. "They're right there."

"Buddy, remember those magazines I showed you?" Sheppard began.

"I was eighteen!" I said defensively, blushing. "They seemed like a good idea at the time!" You know, much like volunteering for a one-way trip to an unexplored galaxy after one's fiance leaves one for a SGC cadet with mile-long legs and the IQ of an eggplant.

"The boobs are a lie, my friend," McKay explained, patting Ronon's shoulder.

"Really?" Ronon said dubiously, and he _freaking reached out and poked one!_

"Yeah, it does feel a little stiff," he conceded, and my eye began to twitch again. "What is it?"

"They're called implants," Sheppard explained, tying the end of a coil of nylon rope to his belt. "They're used to make breasts bigger, or to reconstruct them after damage or disease."

"Do women on your planet usually alter their bodies?" Ronon asked, eyes wide.

"Sure," Sheppard replied. "Dr. Esposito? Not her real nose. Zelenka's German assistant? Cheek implants. And I know for a fact that Jennifer lightens her hair. Saw her stocking up on dye in the commissary back on Earth."

"Really?" McKay's jaw dropped. "How did I not know this?"

"Gentlemen!" Teyla sounded irritated now. "There are still Bola Kai searching for us!"

"So, as I was saying," Sheppard said, turning back to me.

"I'll manage," I replied between clenched teeth. Ronon eyed my chest warily and reached out a finger again. I slapped his hand away.

"Okay then," Sheppard said. "I'll go first, then Rodney, then Teyla, followed by Fin. Ronon, you'll go last. I'm going to take this end of the rope with me, and tie it off to an anchor at the other end. McKay, you clamp the rope to your belt. That way if you lose your footing you won't fall. Same for the rest of you. Ronon, I trust you'll be okay without a safety clip? Good. We'll tie Fin's pack to the end and pull it behind when she's across. Everyone ok with that?"

"No," I piped up.

"Excellent," he finished, ignoring me.

Sheppard eased himself out of the bushes and onto the first ledge. He ran his hands across the rough stone, and his fingers tightened around a small outcropping. He made his way slowly but smoothly across, the toe of his left boot testing each step before he put his full weight on it. Teyla watched him intently, and I doubt she realized her breaths came in time with his steps. Halfway across, a foothold crumbled beneath his boot, sending a cascade of tiny pebbles falling to the valley far below, and Teyla let out a soft moan. Sheppard jerked back, nearly losing his balance. His fingers dug into a tiny crevice, and sweat ran down his face. He shot an agonized glance toward her, then grinned reassuringly. It would have been convincing had his face not gone McKay-white. Teyla nodded back, but her lips moved as if in prayer. I made a note to adjust my bet in the Sheyla date-of-hookup pool; the body language was screaming sooner rather than later, and the pool is up to four grand cash and a two week leave. That is, if the human death-wish made it across without falling to his gruesome and inevitable demise. I'd give that 50/50 odds.

We all breathed a sigh of relief when his boots touched solid ground and he disappeared around the edge of the cliff face. The rope that stretched loosely between Sheppard and Ronon twitched for a minute, then jerked twice.

"That's it," Ronon mumbled, and pushed McKay toward the edge. Teyla clipped the rope to his belt and squeezed his shoulder.

"You will do fine," she said. "We have you. You will not fall. Just go slowly and steadily."

"But not too slowly," I added, peering through the foliage behind us. "The Bola Kai are gathering at the garden. We need to get around them now."

McKay, who at this point was a cringe personified and shaking like little bitch, stepped onto the ledge and clung to the rock.

"Good," Teyla encouraged him. "That's good, Rodney. Now take a step. That's it..."

McKay made a high pitched whining noise much like a cadet getting their first set of stitches, and squeezed his eyes shut. He moved approximately a quarter of an inch, then stopped, gasping for air.

"That's it, Rodney," Teyla said. "Just keep moving."

"Man, I could just carry him across," Ronon grumbled. "It'd be a lot faster." Teyla ignored him with the ease of long practice.

Eventually McKay inched his way across, eyes shut the entire time of course, and Sheppard helped him around the corner. Teyla clipped herself to the rope and stepped lightly onto the ledge.

"I will go as quickly as I can," she assured us. "Keep watch. The Bola Kai will search here eventually."

If a woman can be said to float, it would describe the way Teyla climbed across the cliff face. She barely touched the rock, and there was no hesitation in her footsteps. Where Sheppard was cautious and methodical, she glided, almost dancing as she crossed. Maybe there is something to all that meditating she does.

She still wasn't fast enough. McKay had taken too long. She was only halfway across when I spotted a group of Bola Kai heading toward us. The main body had splintered off into smaller groups of a half dozen or so, and were combing the valley and moving outward toward the trees. They were organized this time, and they wouldn't miss us.

"Ronon," I whispered, or maybe squeaked. "Ronon, they're coming."

"Damn," he muttered, and gave the rope a tug. Teyla stopped and looked at him. He gestured to her, and she nodded. Apparently there's a gesture for "Hurry the fuck up, cannibals are coming!". Who knew?

She wrapped the rope around her forearm, and Ronon threw the coil, along with my pack, over the edge of the cliff. Teyla watched it fall, then leaned back and stepped off the ledge. My heart dropped as fast as she did, and then she was swinging away from us, toward Sheppard. It took him only a few moments to pull her up, and the bag after her.

"Stay here," Ronon ordered, pulling his energy gun. "I'm going to lead them away. Wait till I'm gone, then cross. Tell Sheppard not to wait for me. Just get to the gate."

"What about you?" I asked, if only for the cliche aspect.

"Don't worry about me," he said. "Just get to the gate."

He stood quickly, shouting in defiance, but before he could even raise the damn gun, a rock caught him on the temple, and he fell like the dead.

"My hero," I sighed, and ducked before a second thrown rock could hit me. The Bola Kai were on us instantly, and I was knocked to the ground in their haste to restrain Ronon. I felt a hard lump under my hip, and I realized I had landed on Ronon's gun. I stuffed it up my shirt and under my bra, the grip wedged firmly under my armpit. Say what you will about the hideousness of industrial strength bras, they're damn good at holding things in place.

One of the warriors hauled me up by my ponytail, and I screamed. He slapped me hard across the face to shut me up, and I felt my lower lip split. The warrior laughed, and licked the blood off my chin. I gagged at the stench of his breath, and he laughed harder. He shoved me against another warrior and tied my hands together. Ronon was out cold, and several of them took the opportunity to get a few kicks in. The big guy would wake up with a massive headache and a sore belly, if he woke up at all.

They tied Ronon to a pole like a pig on a spit and carried him toward the garden, where they were setting up camp. The warrior who struck me picked me up and slung me over his shoulder. I wanted to scream again, but the greasy fur pressed against my face encouraged me to keep my mouth clamped shut.

I caught sight of Ronon as we were carried across the valley. His head hung limply and his eyes were rolled back. Blood ran sluggishly from his head wound. Words like _subdural hematoma _and _cerebral hemorrhage _ran through my mind, and I cursed loudly.

"Shut up," the warrior carrying me snapped.

"Bite me," I snarled back.

"Oh, I'll get to that eventually." _Smart, Fin, real smart!_

When we reached the camp, the warriors cut Ronon loose from the pole, then retied him with what I consider necessary overkill. They threw us both into a hastily erected tent. I hit the ground hard, and lay there stunned as the warrior knelt down beside me.

"Dinner soon," he said softly, as he stroked my hair. He pulled a long knife from beneath his cape and ran the blade down my cheek. I cringed away, and he chuckled. He grabbed my ponytail again, and used the knife to saw it off. I don't cry easily, but the sight of my long blond hair wrapped around his dirty fist had tears running down my cheeks. He shoved my hair into his shirt and walked out of the tent. Beside me, Ronon remained unconcious and still.

You see? Things can always get worse.


	5. Chapter 5

I rolled onto my side and used Ronon's body to leverage myself into a sitting position, gasping at the deep aches I could just tell were going to turn into massive bruises. From outside I could hear wood being thrown into a pile, while the Bola Kai hooted and yelled, way too happy about the upcoming barbeque for my liking. The tent was small and dark, with only a wide hole at the top to let in the last light of the day. What little sky I could see was the soft purple you only ever get in the most remote of places, where light pollution is far, far away. Even if we could get away, where would we go? With over a hundred Bola Kai between us and the gate, our only hope for survival was Sheppard, Teyla, and McKay making it through and coming back with every damn Marine on base. And they would, no doubt. Sheppard's damn attached to Ronon, be still my gay-porn-loving heart. I mean, the fanfic some of the chicks on base write about those two... Moving on.

Still crying, I ran my tied hands through my hair, assessing the damage done. The warrior had chopped my ponytail off well above the back of my neck, so while the front was still long enough to cover my face, the back felt almost buzzed. Sniffling loudly, I tucked what was left of my hair back behind my ears and began to search Ronon for injuries. A cursory inspection revealed no broken bones or distended abdomen, but an impressive assortment of bruises, a swollen jaw, possible fractured nose, and abs you could wash clothes on. His breathing seemed easier, but the light was too dim for me to make out his pupils, so I settled for sitting back and taking stock of my situation.

A quick pat-down before our forced march had relieved us of all our more easily accessible weapons, and although I was fairly sure Ronon had more knives secreted around his person I was reluctant to go searching. Which just goes to show how dire the situation was; me passing by the opportunity to perform a full body search on a gorgeous guy for actual legit reasons? See that sickly dude with the white horse standing in that corner over there? That's the first Horseman, that is.

"Ronon," I whispered, patting his cheeks gently. "Ronon, wake the hell up!"

He grumbled low in his throat, then fell silent again.

"Oi," I said, a little louder. "Wake up! We need to find a way out of here."

He mumbled something about his sun and stars before finally coming fully awake, or at least as awake as a dude with a probable concussion can be.

"Danny?" he said groggily, rubbing his head.

"What?"

"What?" he repeated, confused. He noticed the bindings around his wrists and began to struggle. I grabbed his chin and forced him to look at me. He winced in pain as my fingers dug into his swollen flesh, and he tried to pull away, his eyes still wild.

"Ronon," I said firmly. "Calm your ass down. We need to get free, and to do that you have to focus. Got it? Growl once for yes."

He bared his teeth at me, which I took as assent and let him go. He sat up quickly, then groaned and toppled over. I caught him with my shoulder and shoved him back upright.

"They got us, huh?" he said peering around the now dark tent. He closed his eyes and shifted his body slowly, from his shoulders to his feet. "Damn, my head hurts. They found most of my knives. I can still feel the one hidden in the sole of my left boot, the one under my vest along my spine, and- no, they took the ones at my ankles. And my stunner. They got that, too."

"No, I've got that," I said, squirming in a vain effort to relieve the pressure of the handgrip pressing into the side of my breast. "You can have it back when when you stop seeing two of everything. Now, let's get these ropes off. There's a razor blade duct-taped to the inside of my belt, just to the right of my spine. Get that, will you?"

"Why do you have a razor blade taped to your belt?"

"Considering your team's history, I figured it was a good idea. However, I assumed if we were taken captive, they'd be smart enough to tie our hands behind our backs."

"Good thinking," he said, ripping away the strip of duct tape. He peeled off the thin cardboard covering and sliced through my ropes before handing me the blade.

"So, what's the plan?" he asked, holding his wrists out to me.

"What do you mean, what's the plan?" I snapped. "I'm supposed to come up with the plans now? I cook. I'm not trained for this shit!"

"You're doing fine so far," he shrugged. "Okay. I say we shoot our way out. Take them by surprise, kill off the closest ones, then run for the gate."

I looked at him in disbelief, then shook my head. "Stand up," I ordered. He jumped to his feet, and promptly fell over as his legs gave out from under him.

"You're not running anywhere," I sighed. I thought for a minute. "Here's what's going to happen. We can't wait for Sheppard to come to our rescue. The fire's already burning, and the Bola Kai will be coming for us any time now. Take the razor and cut a slit in the back of the tent. I'll take care of the distraction."

"Got it. Hey, what happened to your hair?"

"One of them's got a hair fetish."

While Ronon crawled the the back of the tent, I rummaged through my various pockets. Anything remotely useful as a weapon had been taken, but the Bola Kai had left the rest alone. I pulled out a disposable lighter, a small squeeze bottle of oil, and several full clips.

"Why are you carrying ammo with you?" Ronon asked.

"For when you people are in a firefight and inevitably run low."

Moving quickly, I flicked the bullets out of the clips and let them fall to the floor a few feet away from the tent opening. Leather laces dangled from the closed flaps, and it was a matter of a few seconds to knot them securely. The oil was splashed across the flaps.

"Ready," Ronon said, and I held the lighter to the oil-soaked cloth. It caught immediately and spread faster than I expected. Smoke began to fill the tent, and as we crawled out the back I could hear startled shouts from the Bola Kai. With luck, they'd think we were burning along with the tent.

"Get to the stream," I hissed. "Fast. We need to put the bank between us and the tent."

"And then what?" he asked.

"I got us out. You come up with something!"

We scurried across the few yards of grass between the burning tent and the stream, as the pop-pop-pop of exploding bullets suddenly filled the air. I felt a sharp blow and a burning, tearing sensation below my left ribs. Hot blood ran down my side as we lowered ourselves silently into the water, pressing ourselves against the sharp bank. I touched my side shakily, and found a small bullet wound. Figures. Unable to do anything about it, I dropped my hand and hoped the icy water would slow the bleeding. I bit back a sob and risked a look over the bank, and saw that the camp had become pure chaos. Several warriors lay dead or injured on the ground near the tent, hit by discharging bullets. More tried to pull down the flaming tent; one hopeful soul was throwing clods of dirt in a futile attempt to smother the fire.

The Bola Kai were momentarily distracted, but we were still in danger. The strong current pulled at us, and we dug our fingers into the wet soil to anchor ourselves, conscious of the waterfall not far away.

"We need to cross the stream," Ronon said. "We'll try for the forest on the other side, and we'll keep moving until help arrives."

It was a long shot, but it might have worked had the warrior who cut off my hair not spotted us. He picked up a discarded axe and ran toward us. I reached under my shirt and pulled out Ronon's gun. In one fluid movement, Ronon plucked it out of my hand and fired at the warrior. The first shot missed. The second shot only made him stumble. The third brought him to his knees. He stared hatefully at me before falling face down into the grass. The other Bola Kai heard the shots and abandoned the tent, focused now entirely on us. My stomach turned, the combination of fear and blood loss making me nauseous. There was no hope now, though Ronon continued to fire his gun. There were just too many of them.

Then the pale moon rose above the mountains, and the world went mad.


	6. Chapter 6

The Bola Kai were on us in a heartbeat. Ronon did his best to keep them at bay, but there were just too many of them. For every warrior he shot down, two more took his place. Ronon tried to keep them away from me, shooting any who got too close until a group swarmed him, and it was all he could do to save his own skin.

One particularly greasy specimen shoved his way past the others, knocking his fellow Bola Kai aside in his eagerness to reach me. His hair was long and matted, whatever color it had once been now long obscured by layers of accumulated filth and grime, and the teeth he bared at me were chipped and rotted. Up close I could see a leather thong hanging from his neck, strung with tiny discolored bones; finger bones. My stomach heaved as I took in the sizes- children's bones, all of them. I stared at them, and my vision went red. Adults know the universe is a cruel place where any atrocity can and will be committed by those with a taste for such things. But kids should be protected. No child should ever be hurt.

Blood pounded in my ears as I reached up to tear the necklace from his neck, because there is some shit with which I won't put up. Not my smartest move, I agree. I blame the blood loss. In any case, the warrior grabbed my arm and tried to haul me up out of the water. I shoved my other hand deeper into the mud of the bank and tried to pull away, digging the toes of my boots into the silt. Screams began to drown out excited shouts, but it took me several moments to realize they weren't coming from me or Ronon.

I thought it was a trick of the moonlight at first, the pale, pale blue light reflecting off my skin. Then the soft glow began to increase, illuminating veins from inside, revealing shadowy bone. Fucking fantastic. On top of everything else that had gone wrong, I was now a human glowstick.

The warrior stared at my hands puzzled. He opened his mouth to speak, but words turned to screams. His fingers tightened around my wrist, grinding the bones together, while I tried to figure out what the hell was happening. That's when I saw the worms.

Remember the snake-lamprey thing? Imagine its tiny, meaner, hungrier cousins. The length of my hand and slim as a pencil, they glowed with the same internal light now afflicting me, which meant that when they crawled out of the soil and up the warrior's legs and began tearing into his flesh there was no darkness to hide the sight.

Still gripping my wrist, he tried to brush them off with his other hand with increasingly frantic movements. They simply swarmed over his hand and crawled up his arm, biting and burrowing as they went. I could see his skin rippling as they tunneled their way through the fat and muscle.

"Get off!" I screamed. "Get away! Ronon! Ronon, get away from the dirt!"

As I tried desperately to pull my arm away, the warrior continued to scream. His leggings, arms, and bare abdomen were soaked in blood and as I watched in horror, unable to look away, the flesh of the hand trapping me began to writhe. Several worms burst from his skin and headed straight for mine.

"No no no!" I wept. This wasn't right. I knew going off world with Sheppard was a risk, but couldn't his bad luck just be content with getting me scalped and shot? Apparently not. Apparently now it had to introduce man-eating, flesh-burrowing killer worms, and that's just not right, man.

Speaking of Death's favorite team leader, I was vaguely aware of gunfire coming from the forest. Sheppard, Teyla, and McKay were not far away. They had come back for us, the morons. I tried to scream for them to run, but panic had finally stolen my voice.

The worms infesting my captor crawled across his clutching fingers to my hand, then stopped. While I hyperventilated, they explored my skin with their frilled, tapeworm-like heads, then drew back as if repulsed. The sensation of those tiny mouths on my skin stayed with me, and I shivered. The worms burrowed back into the warrior's flesh and disappeared in seconds. The warrior finally loosened his grip, and as I watched, his eyes dimmed and he fell to the grass, finally dead. More worms burst from the ground to cover him in a living, glowing shroud, and as I looked past him, I could see dozens of similar sights across the valley. The screaming was dying away now; most of the Bola Kai were dead. The few that still lived shouted and tried to beat away the tiny predators before they too fell.

"What the hell is happening?" Ronon breathed, shoving a dead Bola Kai off him and onto the grass. The worms attacked the corpse hungrily. "And why am I glowing?"

The blue glow running through his veins was even brighter than mine, and the worms gave him wide berth. Curious, he tried to pluck a worm from the nearest corpse, but they writhed away from his fingers.

I closed my eyes and rested my head on edge of the embankment, displacing several worms. My side burned where the bullet hit and my brain was starting to go fuzzy. I felt myself begin to slip further into the water but I couldn't bring myself to care. The cold water closed over my head, then I was being pulled out of the stream and onto the grass. Ronon groaned loudly as he collapsed beside me.

"You alright?" he grunted. I touched my side again, and my fingers came away crimson.

"Not really," I mumbled, my tongue thick and heavy. "One of the bullets caught me. I'm bleeding."

He rolled over and pulled my shirt up. I tried to push his hands away, but he ignored my protests and proceeded to poke and prod the area around the wound.

"It's not too bad," he said, as my vision began to dim from the pain. "I can feel the bullet only a few inches in. Want me to pull it out?" That got my attention.

"Don't you dare!" I snapped, forcing myself back to full awareness. "The last thing I need is battlefield surgery done by a guy with a concussion." I reached into a side pocket and pulled out a plastic bandage and a pill bottle. Luckily both had withstood being submerged in water, and I quickly dry-swallowed two of the pills and chewed two more, gagging at the taste. I tossed the painkillers to Ronon and slapped the bandage over my wound. The protein binders infused in the bandage would stop the bleeding until I got back to base. In theory, anyway.

"What the hell is going on?" Sheppard asked, as he, McKay, and Teyla trotted up to us. McKay was whimpering quietly to himself and scrubbing at his brightly glowing skin with a wet-wipe. Teyla just looked concerned for everybody, as usual.

"Don't ask me," Ronon grumbled, tossing the painkillers back to me. "I want to know why I'm blue, what the hell those things were, and why they didn't touch us."

"Hey, aren't those Carson's new protein bandages?" McKay interrupted. "I didn't know he cleared those for use yet."

"He hasn't," I admitted. "I swiped a few while looking for Percocets. I figured at least one serious injury was inevitable."

"You broke into Carson's office?" Teyla gasped, appalled. Thank the gods I didn't mention the morphine syringes in the pack now dangling from her shoulder.

"Looks like it's a good thing she did," Sheppard chuckled. "I've been after Woolsey to approve personal med kits for every person who goes off world. Looks like you two just made my case. How are you doing, Chewie? Looks like you got a little roughed up."

"I feel great," Ronon said, a goofy grin spreading across his face. "Guess I wasn't hurt as bad as I thought." He tried to stand up, but fell right back down with a surprised grunt.

"Uh, buddy, how many of those pills did you take?" Sheppard asked.

"Same as her," he said, gesturing to me. "Two swallowed, two chewed."

"Oh shit," I muttered. Ronon giggled.

"Looks like I'm going to have to run to the gate and call Atlantis for a jumper and a quarantine set up," Sheppard sighed. "Teyla, you're with me. Rodney, you keep an eye on these two. Make sure Ronon doesn't pull a Jimi Hendrix. And I want samples of everything, including worm specimens. The docs will take blood draws from all of us as soon as we get back, and- Uh, Finn? Didn't you have more hair just a little while ago?"

"You know," McKay cut in. "I think Kavanaugh had that same haircut after one of the cooks cut off his stupid pony- Oh. That was you."

I made a mental note to replace his coffee with decaf for the foreseeable future. Beside me, Ronon toppled over and began to snore. Apparently despite his near weekly trips to the infirmary to get stitched up, dude's got no tolerance for the good stuff. Go figure.

Nearby, the mounds of feasting worms began to diminish. The sated worms began to disappear into the rich soil, pulling the defleshed bones under with them. In minutes the valley was again still and dark, lit only by the moon and the cold stars. Teyla wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and gave my hand a squeeze before jogging off with Sheppard. Beside me, Ronon muttered quietly in his sleep. I thought I heard the word 'dragon', but I can't be sure.

"You know," McKay said, lowering himself to the grass beside Ronon. "I've gotten shot before. So, you know, I know how you're feeling."

"That right?" I said, digging through my pack for the morphine.

"Twice, actually," he said proudly. "Of course once was an arrow, and the other time it was John who shot me. But still... Hey, do you have any of that snake ceviche left? I think my blood sugar is low again."

As McKay continued to whine about his non existent medical issues, I jabbed the needle into my vein and let the sweet, sweet morphine carry me away from what had to be the most fubar'd mission I'd hopefully ever be on.

**A/N: Thank you all for your patience. I had some pretty horrific stuff going on the past six months, and writing took a backseat. There will probably be some breaks in the future (this story and my others), but I will finish all of them, eventually!**


	7. Chapter 7

By the time night began to give way to dawn, a still slightly glowing Ronon, McKay and I were surrounded by four jumpers filled with scientists, medical staff, and very jumpy twenty year olds with guns, though the wussy sons of bitches refused to actually land until the sun rose over the horizon. The medical team settled for tossing us supplies from the rear of their jumper, until Sheppard finally began shoving staff out the door. Dr. Beckett the Second was the first one out, covered head to toe in hazmat gear, followed closely by Dr. Keller. Beckett, back from one of his cross-galaxy jaunts, rushed directly to Ronon, who was still snoring happily and muttering about horse hearts (Dude needs therapy. Seriously.). Keller threw herself into McKay's arms, and I will never understand how a self-centered, hypochondriac, high maintenance bitch like McKay managed to bag a doll like Keller. I suspect self esteem issues. Meanwhile, I just laid there like a good girl, quietly bleeding to death from a freaking gunshot wound. I'm not bitter at fucking all...

Beckett barked out orders to his staff, who quickly surrounded Ronon and poked, prodded, and scanned the hell out of him. Once assured that the largest Chosen One wasn't in imminent danger of dying, he finally focused his attention on me and my wound.

"Isn't this one of my experimental bandages?" he asked, surprised. Damn. He noticed.

"Could be," I shrugged. "And on the remote chance that it is, I'd have to say it's pretty effective. Totally still alive."

"So I see," he said with a disturbing smile. "Let's take a look, shall we?"

He ripped the damn bandage off and I shouted in pain and surprise. He poked the wound with a heavily gloved finger, while I tried to wriggle away.

"You're right," he said sweetly. "The protien binders worked brilliantly. You're showing no signs of internal bleeding, and the wound is sealing nicely. The bullet appears to have missed your internal organs. Well, the important ones anyway. I'll remove it once we return to base. And since I'm sure you helped yourself to painkillers whie raiding my office, I imagine you've enough in your system to last you for a while."

"Sadistic bastard," I muttered. He patted my shoulder, then held up a large needle. I shuddered.

"Let's get those blood samples, shall we?" he said happily. I always knew there was something just a little warped about Beckett. Still, he's got a pretty nice- Moving on...

After the good doctor drained me of half my remaining blood, I was loaded onto a stretcher and dumped uncerimoniously into the back of a jumper beside a still snoring Ronon to await the initial blood analysis before we could return to base. Turns out that odd anomaly I found in the vegetables is a microorganism found in trace amounts in pretty much every living thing on that planet. However, the remains of our ceviche showed high concentraitions of that organism. Evidentally, the lamprey thing and the killer worms absorb it in high amounts, which helps them identify each other as not-food. The only reason we survived was because the lamprey we had for lunch introduced the bioluminescent micoorganism into our bloodstreams in a high enough concentration that it fooled the worms into thinking we were kin. Keller assured us that we should glow blue for only a few more nights before it leaves our systems. Beckett is interested in seeing it first hand, so to speak. I'll be meeting him tonight for further studies, heh heh.

So, that's my report. Now, if I may, I'd like to make a request. Please, for the love of Cthulhu, don't ever make me go off world with those lunatics again. They are psychotic, sociopathic, and completely lacking in survival instinct. How the hell they're still alive, I just don't know. Sheppard's elf-ear magic will only go so far. And did you notice that AGAIN it was the non team member who got shot up? There needs to be a warning label tattooed across his ass. Abandon all hope... I still haven't gotten the Bola Kai brains out of my clothes. I will also be submitting a request for wig reimbursments until my hair grows back. End report.

xxxXXXxxx

Richard Woolsey dropped the report on his desk and removed his glasses with a sigh. He could feel another headache bulding, as he so often did after situations involving Sheppard. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. Why him? Shen Xiaoyi never had these personnel issues. _Her _people never turned routine assignments into life or death situations on a regular basis or- he glanced at the name on the report again and winced- attacked other personnel with kitchen knives. Though, admittedly it _was _Kavanaugh that was attacked, so he supposed it was understandable. Maybe he should have stayed back on Earth with the IOA. He never had to order aspirin and pink bismuth in bulk back then.

He glanced at the stack of medical reports from Beckett and Keller. They were currently analyzing the test results in hopes of replicating the microorganism and turning it into a gene therapy to allow base personnel to live safely on M2S-489 if need be. Sheppard had already approached him about building a golf course there.

Woolsey sighed audibly and picked up the next mission report, or rather a voice recorder taped to a report form. He closed his eyes briefly and reached for the bottle of bismuth.

_Mission report, Ronon Dex. We went offworld. Checked sensors. Fin made us lunch. We got attacked by Bola Kai. Worms ate them. End report._

_P.S. Can we have Fin come on more missions with us? She cooks good and brings snacks. Uh, end report again._

**A/N: Thanks for reading! I had so much fun with Fin that I hope to bring her back in a future story, as well as perhaps a bonus chapter on the Kavanaugh Potato Incident. **


End file.
